


Severed Love

by Naveri



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: AGONIZING PAIN, Acceptance, Angst, Blood, F/M, Forgiveness, Gen, Kieran got tortured AGAIN, Lauren is sentimental, One Shot, Pain, So much angst, Suffering, Tears, major character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26465191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naveri/pseuds/Naveri
Summary: It was only a matter of time before something like this happened again. He made the mistake of not telling her. He made the mistake of pushing her away. He cut off the deal, he disappeared for weeks, but she finds him there, again, in the cave. But it's not Kieran she knew, she only sees a shattered shell of a soul that drowned in the blood of his victims. She was too late.
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White
Comments: 15
Kudos: 52





	Severed Love

**Author's Note:**

> Me typing this, listening to Requiem of Flowers on repeat and then wondering.
> 
> 'Why do I do this to myself?"
> 
> Then I post it here like,
> 
> 'Why do I do this to you guys?"
> 
> -
> 
> Because deep down inside, we're all like Kieran, and most the time pain is the only thing that makes us feel alive.

A bloodied hand gripped the loose rock at the cave entrance, Kieran’s breath staggering for some relief. His heart was sure to give out. His right hand flung forward with maddening force, pitching his tainted sword across the massive area. It whipped through the air, liquid lives lost upon the wind. With a couple clanks, it fell to the ground, spinning at a stop near the water's edge. Eyes of azure glared forward, seering into the weapon he _used to love._

_I gave more than I could give._

Kieran’s dried painted fingers caressed through his dirty locks. His shoes dragged against the rock floor, body swaying slowly until it hit the hilt of the sword. Droplets of his pain flooding along his lashes to feed the cause. His brows furrowed into a disgusted, angry expression. He belted. He screamed. He remembers a time just like this. So angry, he punched the wall. The hole was still present, his eyes finding its way to the evidence of his past mistake.

_Now I’ve made another._

His gaze, blurry with exhaustion and guilt, gripped to the sword again. His knees came crashing, body hunched forward, and the weapon of his choices, reaching for the tool of the deeds. He gripped it tightly, reaching for one of the rags hanging over the edge of the rock facet. Kieran began methodically cleaning the blade. 

_Cauterize and cleanse. My soul can't be pure again._

* * *

It was only a matter of time before something like this happened again. He made the mistake of not telling her. He made the mistake of pushing her away these past few weeks. He cut off the deal, when they were getting so close to finding out the truth of the Phantom Scythe. She thought they were making progress. He helped her end the tantalizing search for Dylan. The lost cause of a boy she lost that day in the fire. Dylan was not the person she once knew. She had to accept that Dylan was beyond saving. A shell of a soul. Kieran helped her close the chapter on her parent’s death. Kieran did _so much_ to prove he was sorry. To show he cared. And yet, this drop of a hat, this turn of his back, and the cold shoulder he gave her after they had solved all her questions was concerning. His last words, we’re the most worrisome.

_“I’ll handle the Leader. Justice or not, this final chapter of the story is mine to tell.”_

They were supposed to be in this together. Until the end. Somewhere along the way, something changed. He closed himself off. They stopped seeing each other late into the nights. His short time at the Precinct came to an end abruptly, weeks before the massacre. It was the last she saw of him. He was a ghost. Apartment empty, minus the few pieces of furniture that sit abandoned and every time she’d go to the cave, trying to find him, he was never there. 

_Help me, and we both get what we want._

What happened to relying on one another? And now _this._ Another massive slaughter, lining the streets on display for all to see. She came prepared, gun in hand, stomping into the cave enclosure. She trudged through the forest anyway, _hoping_ he’d be here, grin on display, arms wide open, waiting for yet another show of theater to be presented for her. She hissed upon arrival, hatred slipping off her tongue.

“Kieran.” A growl rumbling in the back of her throat. 

Despite all the anger boiling inside of her, a small pocket of relief swam through it at the sight of his form. It lasted moments. He wasn’t in a chair, reading a book, asking to go out for coffee. There was no taunting introduction. No laughs, no grins, no egotistical triumphs. His back faced her, hunched forward. He was staring at the water. _Just staring._

She spoke his name once more. He hadn’t budged. _Is he dead?_ Blood splattered across his clothes, his hair, arms bruised and cuts drawn along his skin. Lauren lowered her gun, her steps steady. She reached him. 

“Kieran.”

She wasn’t sure why she whispered. She pocketed her gun when he didn’t budge, but she could see the subtle movement of his breathing. It was a stutter but nonetheless he was alive. Lauren stood over him, seeing the reflection of his eyes upon the water's surface. He looked... _faded._ It was like his soul had withered from his body. Her reflection joined his, golden strikes of worry moving upon the liquid waves. She watched the sparks of blue return at the sight of her, eyes moving ever so slightly to look at her face within the water. 

“Do you see it?” His throat, dry and cracked. 

“I see you.” 

“Do you see the _monster?”_

Lauren’s palm came to rest upon his shoulder. It tensed upon her touch. _“_ Kieran.”

He didn’t move, eyes casting upon the watered surface. “Do you see _him?_ ”

“What happened, Kieran? What happened to you? You were gone. I couldn’t find you for weeks.”

Kieran ignored her, speaking in a mumbled slur. “He just won’t sleep. This monster inside will not surrender.”

Her hand attempted to tug him out of his stupor, body rocking against her pull. “Kieran, look at me.”

Gems of azure grew into a fury. His voice, now much louder. “You need to leave. You need to go. You are in danger.” 

“What are you talking about?” Lauren squinted at his reflection, squeezing his shoulder.

_“He_ will not rest.”

Lauren’s flutter of worry reached her throat, instead, using her actions to show him. She crouched, arms reaching both of his shoulders so he could face her.

“Did the Phantom Scythe do this to you?” Black and blue bruises littered his face, cuts upon his cheeks, lower lip swollen. 

“We need to get you some medical care. You look awful.” Lauren was about to stand, his bloodied arm shooting out to grab at her wrist and tugging her forward. She fell half way onto his lap, the rest of her slamming against his chest. She yelped, frozen against him. They’d never actually...embraced. Or hugged. She felt the fear radiating through him. 

“Kieran...your signature. The slaughter. Why?” He hugged her tightly, her arms reaching around to feel the shaking of his body. Why was he so terrified? 

“To protect. Yet I failed. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t finish the job. So, I ran.”

“You have to be honest with me, please. Did they torture you, those weeks that you were gone?”

**“No.”**

The corner of her eyes stung, squinting to stop the tears. She whimpered. “Talk to me.” 

“I don’t want it to be like last time. I accept my crimes. I accept my choices, my mistakes, my _life._ I don’t want you to hate me anymore.”

“I don’t hate you, Kieran.” She squeezed him tighter, the two of them now in a comfortable embrace.

“You need to go, Lauren. Take the train in the morning, out of Ardhalis. Leave the city and _never_ come back.” 

She pulled away, eyes of a cold ocean shifting through her. 

“What!? Are you insane? No. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving you here like this.”

His hands reached for hers, the tiny glimpse of the Kieran she knew returning. “Stop being so stubborn and listen to me.” 

She begged this time. “Talk to me. You can open up to me.” Her look of desperation that of a fool any other time. But this wasn’t like any other time. Kieran was cracking, a shell, shattering into pieces and she was scared she’d never be able to put him back together if he broke. 

“I can't. Everyone close to me ends up hurt...or worse.” He closed his eyes, pulling away from her and shaking his head. The hands that lingered upon hers, now reached for his temples. Tears slipping, pooling, mixing with the blood stains. He choked up, throat at a lock, and the heave of a breath stuck in the next sob that escaped him. He was so _vulnerable._ Lauren’s hands fell from his shoulder, floating in amiss. She was unsure of how to react. It terrified her to see the mask of charm breaking right in front of her. She did the only thing she knew how to do. She hugged him. Embraced him tightly. Placed all her weight upon him, causing a reaction. He squeezed back, burying his sobs upon her shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry, Lauren.” 

She’s silent. Hearing the quiet sobs die down, her hand caressing upon the wrinkled and dirtied shirt. 

A breath away from her ear, he whispers. “Your eyes.” 

“What, Kieran?” Lauren’s nose cradles in the bundle of midnight locks. 

His tone had darkened, the light of that small fire she saw, withering away back into the shadows. “It’s a shame I will never see their brilliant light, their encapsulating shine again.” 

Lauren’s lips frown, her head lifting to get another look at him. He squeezes her tighter, so hard it hurts. His lips brush along her cheek. 

“I love you.”

Lauren has no time to comprehend the words, the rustle of his arm, dagger in hand, plunging into her heart. An audible gasp escapes her, and she chokes. Blood filling along the crevices of her lips. 

_Watching your slow demise._

_With the turning of this knife._

  
  


Her body slumps, falling back against his arm, palm bracing her. Lauren’s eyes begin to fade, faints of a summer sunrise sinking beneath the horizon. They pierce him just the same as he did her heart. Pale fingers reach for his wet cheeks, brushing away the blood marked upon him. 

“Forgive me.” He chokes up, teeth baring, eyes wide with the flood of his tears. “The Phantom Scythe...they would have done _so much worse_ to you. They would _never let you go._ I can’t bear to know it would be _my fault._ ” 

She doesn’t respond, her crimson life trailing across the white canvas of her skin, along the crevices of her neck and collarbones. Her hand now cupping his cheek and her lips move with slow precision. He knows what she said. He can see it in her eyes. The expression of forgiveness shining through. Only a few single tears slip from the fire glazed irises before they fade like the light upon the land. Her delicate form slumps, her weight heavy against his arm. Kieran belts out another sob, shaking, shivering. Chokes grasping at his heart, his lungs, his breath. With shaky fingers, he lets go of the dagger still pierced within her chest. Tainted fingers brush along her lashes, slowly closing the windows of a soul far beyond his reach. He would not see her in death. 

Fingers reach for his back pocket and he pulls from it, a tiny purple hyacinth, smashed and withered like his soul. He gives it a kiss, lips trembling. His breath tickles the petals and he speaks to it. Speaks to her.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell the last chapter of your story. Of my story. _Of our story.”_

The flower is passed to his hand holding Lauren against him, his right hand reaching out to grab for his weapon.

_I loved more than I could hold._

_It hurt more than I could show._

_Sever these fraying ties._

The blade, now gripped in his hand, drives to his jugular. The very blade that had almost sliced her pretty little throat that night. He looks ahead, taking in a few deep breaths and closing his eyes. 

_Time won't stop another setting sun._

His hand moves with the precision he was used to. His sword drinks his blood and the last of what he can give. The blade that had taken so many. Innocent, guilty, fearful, mad. With it, it would take him; A vermilion river leading to the coast and into the depths of hell. His sword clanks against the ground, and his body slumps forward against the red haired maiden. 

_I died more than I could live._

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to add the scene after the two passed, of the Phantom Scythe raiding the cave to take Lauren in as a tool (Because she can hear lies) which to them would be a major advantage to their syndicate. But...I wanted it to leave when Kieran left the world.
> 
> It may be selfish of him to take her with him, but he knew the dangers and the torture, the torment of the PS and the life it gave him. It was too much for him to think that Lauren would be sucked into that and she'd end up someone else entirely (dark!Lauren we love her but Kieran, he is terrified of such a thought). I also took the approach that Dylan did live but he became dark!Dylan, so there was no hope for him. 
> 
> The “He will not rest.” phrase can mean both his 'monstrous side' and the Leader in this situation. I left it ambiguous. 
> 
> The words in italics are cut pieces from a song called Sever by Red. They fit so snug and nice with this one shot. 
> 
> Anyway, yes the PS won in this case and the last chapter of their story was never completed. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Kudos/Comments let me know you as well, suffered as I did.


End file.
